Suruci, the king’s favored queen, spoke with a sharp tongue to the young prince Dhruva. “You desire the highest, which is unattainable,” she told him. “You lack discernment. Truly, you are also his son, but you were not borne by me. This royal seat, the refuge of all kings, is fit only for my son. Why do you trouble yourself? Your wish is lofty, just as my son’s, but why in vain? Do you not realize you were born from Suniti?” Hearing these harsh words from his stepmother, Dhruva’s heart burned with anger. Unable to bear the insult, he turned away from his father’s presence and went straight to his own mother’s dwelling. Suniti saw her son’s distress. His lower lip trembled ever so slightly, and she gently took him onto her lap, her voice full of concern. “Child, what has caused your anger? Who has not welcomed you? Who, my dear, would blame your father, or who has wronged you?” Dhruva poured out all that had happened, recounting Suruci’s proud words spoken before the king. Hearing her son’s account, Suniti was deeply troubled. She sighed heavily, her eyes brimming with tears, and spoke to him with sorrow. “Suruci has spoken the truth, my son; you are unfortunate. Indeed, even the virtuous are not freed from the rivalry of co-wives. But do not be disturbed, dear one, by what has happened in the past. Who can give or take away what you have not earned? Therefore, do not let sorrow rise in your heart because of her words. “The royal throne, the umbrella of kingship, boons, and elephants—these belong to the one whose merit is great. Understand this, my son, and be at peace. By the merit of deeds in previous births, Suruci became the king’s wife, while another like me, lacking such merit, is called otherwise. Her son, endowed with accumulated merit, is thus Uttama; my son, Dhruva, was born with little merit. “Even so, my child, you ought not to make yourself unhappy. A person should be content with whatever is his, as long as it lasts. If you have been greatly distressed by Suruci’s words, then strive to accumulate merit, for merit bestows all results. Be virtuous, devoted to righteousness, friendly, and intent on the welfare of all beings. Just as water flows downward, so too do riches come to one who is worthy.” Dhruva listened to his mother’s gentle wisdom, but his young heart was not soothed. “Mother,” he said, “though your words are meant to calm me, they do not remain in my heart, which has been wounded by harsh speech. Therefore, I shall strive in such a way that I attain the highest and most excellent position, honored by all the worlds and never fading. “Suruci is the king’s beloved, but I was not born from her womb. Mother, see my power, though I was born even from your aged womb. Let my brother Uttama, who was carried in her womb, obtain the royal throne given by our father—so be it. I do not desire any other position given by someone else; I wish for that place which my father attained through his own actions.” Having spoken thus to his mother, Dhruva left the house. He departed from the city and entered the forest outside, determined to find his own path. There, in the quiet of the woods, Dhruva came upon sages who had lived for seven generations, seated on mats of grass and clad in garments of bark. Approaching them with humility, he bowed low and offered his respects. He introduced himself: “O noble ones, know me as Dhruva, son of Uttānapāda, born of Suniti, who has come to you out of disillusionment.” The sages looked upon the boy with wonder. “O child, son of Uttānapāda, you are only four or five years old; what cause for disillusionment could there be for you at this age? There is nothing for you to worry about. Your father, the king, is alive, and we do not see any separation from what you desire, O boy. Nor do we perceive any illness in your body. If there is any reason for your disillusionment, tell us, if you know.” Dhruva then told them everything, recounting Suruci’s words. The sages conferred among themselves, marveling, “Ah, what extraordinary kṣatriya energy, that even as a child he cannot endure such words; the stepmother’s speech does not depart from his heart.” They asked him, “O descendant of kṣatriyas, tell us what you have now resolved to do out of your disillusionment, if it pleases you. O highly radiant one, whatever task you wish us to assist you with, let it be spoken; you are observed by us as desiring to speak.” Dhruva replied, “I do not desire wealth, nor do I seek a kingdom, O best of the twice-born. I wish for a single place, one that has not been enjoyed by another before. Let this be accomplished for me properly; tell me how it may be attained—the highest place among all places, O best of sages.” Marīci answered, “O prince, the highest place is not attained by men who have not worshipped Govinda. Therefore, worship Acyuta.” Atri added, “That supreme person, Janārdana, when pleased, grants the imperishable place to others; this truth I have spoken.” Aṅgirā said, “In whom all this exists, within the imperishable soul of Acyuta—worship that Govinda if you desire the highest place.” Pulastya declared, “He who is the supreme Brahman, the supreme abode, who is also called the supreme Brahman—by worshipping that Hari, one attains even the most difficult liberation.” And Pulaha concluded, “Indra obtained the station of Indra by worshipping the Lord of the world, Viṣṇu, the Lord of sacrifice; O virtuous one, worship him.” Thus, the sages guided the determined young Dhruva toward the path of devotion, revealing to him that the highest and most enduring place is attained only through worship of the Supreme Lord.